


Tulpa

by KittenThatReallyLovesSpace



Category: Youtube RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Gen, If I tag anymore then it'll be spoilers, Multi, OC/Reader - Freeform, OC/Reader/Markiplier - Freeform, Reader has depression, Reader is genderfluid, Reader-Insert, i made it explicit because I don't know, markiplier/reader - Freeform, things get confusing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-06-21 09:25:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15554646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenThatReallyLovesSpace/pseuds/KittenThatReallyLovesSpace
Summary: Despite your best efforts, depression seemed to have quite the hold on you. Look at you; parents buried with work, no friends except for a cat, and thoughts of self-harm (your arms weren’t cut into...so far). Deciding that the loneliness was enough, you took matters into your own hands.Too bad that would prove to cause you even more misery...





	1. You

(Y/N) = Your Name  
(L/N) = Last Name  
(H/C) = Hair Color  
(E/C) = Eye Color  
(S/C) = Skin Color  
(F/C) = Fav Color  
(H/L) = Hair Length

(This chapter takes place before the number “leak”. Enjoy!)

(Y/N) (L/N). That’s you. You never saw yourself as someone special. You just liked to write whatever comes to mind. Because of your skill in writing, you had a job as a writer for a website. You weren’t the most popular, due to just writing fact instead of fiction, but that was ok. Maybe someday, you will rise to the top. You had (H/L) (H/C) hair, (E/C) eyes, (S/C) skin, and loved the color (F/C). You made a good amount of money, but still lived with your parents for the time being. You were their only child, so you were pretty accustomed to toys as a child. You had one black cat with blue eyes named ‘Luna’. 

There was just one thing missing...a friend. 

Although you were glad to have toys, you and your parents tended to move around a lot due to your father’s job. So, making friends seemed impossible to you. And now that you’re staying in Illinois in a small town, both parents had told you to go out and find friends. But how could one do that in a small town? Besides, you weren’t exactly a social butterfly. You were shy and awkward around new people, always have been and always will be. 

So now, you were looking up how to make friends. 

You had been searching for what felt like hours, but wasn’t sure which community to join. You had been looking at the profiles of potential friends, but would always chicken out of talking to anyone. You sighed heavily. 

“There’s no way in fresh Hell I can do this! It’s too hard! I don’t get myself at all! I mean, I can write and publish articles for others to see, but I can’t even talk to one damn person?! Ugh, I’m terrible...”

You continued to search, but found nothing that could help. You’ve tried the exercises, but none of it stuck. What were you to do? You sighed once more, thinking about your life. The depression first appeared when you were little. It was mostly genetic, which you got from your poor mother. The father was very understanding when it came to the illness his wife and you had shared. 

‘Mom has Dad and vice versa. What do they need me for? I’m not really needed here...maybe even anywhere.’

Ah, here came the self-loathing. You didn’t hate your parents. They were good and open-minded people. It was just that with your father, your mother was able to cope with things better. You lightly scratched at your face in thought. The parents were always busy with work. Even when they came home, they only had enough energy to make tv dinners and watch TV. So why were you born in the first place?

Why were you cursed with this disorder?

What was the point in trying when you always failed to bring a smile to strangers’ faces?

Were you even good at the things you love to do?

You rubbed at your temples, feeling a headache come on. Your thinking had always been scattered, but became worse when depressed. It didn’t take a whole lot to cause the illness to rise, usually it was people or things going wrong. You then looked at the nightstand next to your bed, which contained your medication and a razor blade. You never used it, for you were too scared to die, but there was always that voice in the back of your head telling you to go ahead and ‘do it’. 

With a shaky hand, you reached for the drawer...only to pull away at the last second. 

“Ugh, I’m such a coward...”

You couldn’t listen to the voice, despite its best efforts to kill you off. It stuck with you for years and was pretty determined to watch you die. There were other voices as well, none of them even close to being good. You wished you could pop pills whenever the voices became too much, but it was the kind of medicine that could become deadly if taken in large doses, so you had to only take them at night. You had been accustomed to the voices, the urges to cut, even the meds for years now. Everyday, you were closer to cutting, but never going through with it. 

What were you to do?

You continued on with searching for friends, but also decided to put on some youtube as background noise. 

“Let’s see...Jack...Daz...Shane...Ah, Mark! Let’s go with him!”

Markiplier, aka Mark Edward Fischbach, was a youtuber that you enjoyed a lot. He just had this quality about him that made him different from the others, although you could never figure out what it was. Was it his kindness? Generosity? Attractive features? The way he made so many laugh? All of it?

Who knows? Still, you enjoyed his content usually, which ranged from hilarious to serious all the time. Mostly hilarious. Looking at his channel, you decided on his most recent video and pressed play. As his voice blared through the speakers of your laptop, it made you smile. You always wanted to be Mark’s friend, but could never seem to reach him in a sea of fan messages. So it was only a silly dream...You would imagine him to be who he is on camera, excluding the asshole part. Thinking of it made you laugh. The voices would be silenced whenever he was on screen. 

Now, to continue the search! 

Eventually while searching, you came across the word ‘tulpa’.

“Huh? What’s a tulpa?”

You typed the word into the search engine and saw many sites pop up. 

“There’s a wikipedia article on it too. Let’s see...’Tulpa is a concept in mysticism and the paranormal of a being or object which is created through spiritual or mental powers. It was adapted by 20th century theosophists from Tibetan sprul-pa, which means "emanation" or "manifestation". Modern practitioners use the term to refer to a type of willed imaginary friend which practitioners consider to be sentient and relatively autonomous. The difference is that the original tulpa represents a shell to manifest something in it and in modern terminology to form or create something directly.’ So it’s like an imaginary friend that’s not so imaginary?”

You delved further into the topic, discovering that you were right. You learned that tulpas have become a new norm online and so many people have written about their experiences with their tulpas. It sounded as easy as pie! But how could you do it?

“Hm...These sites say that it takes a lot of willpower and concentration to make a tulpa, but some people seem to create these things on accident. If I can be a creative writer, what’s to stop me from making one? Sounds easy enough! Just make out the basics, I guess.”

You then grabbed a notebook from your drawer and started to think about the qualities that your tulpa was going to have. 

“Let’s start with...kind,” you said, as you wrote down the following. “Sweet, understanding, a hint of funny, cute, and I’ll name him...Alva? Is that a good name? Eh, I could always change it later...No wait, he’s supposed to change it if he doesn’t like it, I think. Ugh, I’ll have to get used to this.”

After some more details are written down, you finally got a good picture of Alva in your head...at least, his personality. You weren’t sure, however, what he was going to look like. The sites and people have said that bad things happen when a tulpa is based off of a real person, so that option was out. Basing it off of a fictional character would be too weird. Then again, wasn’t this whole situation weird enough? 

“Hm...I guess it will just come to me. Now I’m supposed to meditate, maybe with some music and then see where it goes.”

You then closed Mark’s tab and put on some soothing music to listen to, setting the laptop on the bed and laying down. You then closed your eyes and began to drift away to the sound of the music. 

~*~

The wonderland you had sprung to life, surrounded by a field of various flowers. Smiling at all these flowers, you felt a rush of happiness surge through you. Making a friend wasn’t hard at all! Literally. Why hadn’t you known about this before? 

“H-Hello? Is there s-someone here?”

You quickly turned around to try to find the source of the voice, only to find a black silhouette of a person standing there. It sounded male, but lacked a good majority of features. It wore no clothes, although there was no genitalia to be seen. Their mouth was white and they had completely white eyes, almost looking like those cartoon blob people you’ve seen in youtube videos sometimes. 

You asked, “Are you Alva?”

“A-Alva? Ooh, that’s a nice name!”

He smiled widely, the nervousness seeming to have disappeared. He approached you carefully and stood before you, asking, “Is that my name?”

“Uh...yes?”

“Fantastic!”

Alva then gave you a hug, much to your surprise. You couldn’t believe it. It actually worked! And it took you no time at all! You began to laugh. 

“Wow! I-I’m stunned! I actually have a friend,” you exclaimed. 

“Yes, a friend,” Alva replied with a smile. 

“Oh! But what about your face? I haven’t thought of a look for you.”

“Hm...I’ll just grab a face from your memories!”

Alva raised a hand, summoning all sorts of bubbles to search through, each one showing a different memory. 

“Whoa...I didn’t knew a tulpa could do so much after being born!”

He chuckled and told you, “Well, I come from the best! It’s only natural, I suppose.”

You blushed a bit, feeling Alva pet the top of your head. 

“Hm...Parents are a no-go. I don’t see any friends...no wonder you had to make me! Poor...uh...friend, do I call you? I already know things about you from being in your head, so...I guess we’ll learn these things together! Anyway, hm...”

He soon stopped upon images of all the youtubers that you have ever seen in your entire life, narrowing down each choice with a ‘nope’. 

Until...he landed on Mark.

“Hm...This one is the one you like the most, correct?”

You became nervous. 

“U-Uh, yeah, but-”

“Great! Now, go on and dream while I shift myself, ok?”

“But-”

~*~

Suddenly, you woke up with a start and gasped for air. The music had stopped playing and the night had turned into morning. You let out a breath of relief, but remained concerned. Was that dream real? And why did Alva chose Mark as his new face?

You were startled by a voice purring out, “Hey~”

Freezing in place, you turned to see...Mark? No, it wasn’t him. It looked like someone had chopped off Mark’s head and put it on the body of a shadow. You only now noticed the fangs and claws of the creature...and screamed. 

“GAH!”

You flung your pillow into ‘Mark’s’ face and got up from the bed, prompting the creature to respond with, “Wait, it’s me! Alva! I just look like him!”

“...Huh? Alva?”

“Yes! Did you forget, silly? It’s me,” Alva exclaimed with a smile. 

.....Well shit, this has become awkward.


	2. It's Definitely Not Him

“So...why can’t I be him? You seem to have a lot of memories of him and he’s a total stranger to you, right? So why not,” Alva asked. 

You facepalmed in frustration, explaining, “Because, it’s just weird! You’re not supposed to be based on a real person! It can go wrong very fast!”

He tilted his head to the side in curiosity but then chuckled. For whatever reason, Alva sounded just like him, which made it all the more uncomfortable. You didn’t expect him to turn out looking so real either. He looked...opaque instead of transparent. Did that mean that other people could see him?

“Ok, I’ll change for you. Maybe I’ll choose a look.”

The shadow part of his body swallowed up his head, then slid back down to reveal a face that you had not seen before. This time, he was pale, with messy and curly black hair, blue eyes, and showed off another fanged grin. 

“See? I can be whatever or whoever you want!”

You shook your head and told him, “I’d rather you be yourself...”

Alva then tilted his head again, replying with, “Eh? Really?”

“I like you as you are...”

Alva flinched, gaining a blush on his face, then grinned widely and exclaimed, “Alright! Whatever you say!”

You sighed in relief, although there were still some complications that you began to think about. Such as, how was he supposed to hide from your parents? What if they do find him? What would their reactions be to a strange shadow man in their child’s bedroom? Why was he able to change shape at will? Are there other tulpas that do that? His voice did sound like the original you had heard in your dream and not Mark’s. 

What were they to do now?

“So...What now,” Alva asked.

“Well...do you like video games?”

“Ye!”

~*~

You and Alva had played games for a while, mostly horror, and had a grand time together. He’d try to make you laugh, which would earn him a slight shove on the shoulder and laughter. Once that was done with, you then remembered to write an article for the website and ate cereal while doing so, with Alva helping out with certain bits. He proved to be quite the helper. 

However, the sneaking around wasn’t easy. 

You had to bring your cereal to the bedroom to ease suspicion. Your parents didn’t mind, though, which was good as long as they didn’t open the door. Once you finished typing and publishing the article, Alva yawned and cuddled up to you.

“You’re very soft, (Y/N). And warm. It’s nice,” he told you. 

You blushed with a slight smile. Once he fell asleep, you thought about what to do with Alva. You couldn’t reveal him to anyone, right? Even if you did, who would believe that he’s a tulpa anyway? They’d probably think he wore a bodysuit or something. You couldn’t hide him from the folks forever. They’d freak out and call the police. 

So now what?

You touched Alva’s face, which was warm for some reason. He seemed to be blushing as well, much to your surprise. You accidentally brushed against the black part of his skin, only to retract from how cold it was. You also noticed that he didn’t seem to be breathing, so you checked his pulse and found that there was none. Curious, you bent down and placed an ear onto his chest, only to hear nothing. 

Was he dead?

Panicking, you pulled back and shook Alva violently, only to see his eyes open and grab your wrists. 

“Relax! It’s me! I’m not a monster!”

You stopped and said, “Wait, what? What made you think that? WAIT, how are you alive?!”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“Y-You didn’t have a pulse, heartbeat, nothing! I thought you were dead,” you whispered. 

“Oh, that. I don’t know about that, I think it might be a tulpa thing? I’m not human, silly goose!”

Suddenly, there was knocking at the door. 

“(Y/N)? You alright,” questioned your father. 

“We heard another voice,” said your mother. 

...Shit!

“Quick! Transform,” you whispered. “I don’t care what, just do it!”

Alva panicked a bit but quickly nodded and closed his eyes. His head was enclosed in the darkness and his whole body began to morph until it settled on the form of a black cat with blue eyes. 

“Really? My cat?”

He meowed. Rolling your eyes, you got up and opened the door to see your parents staring at you with confused and worried expressions. 

“Oh, thank goodness! We thought we heard someone else up here,” Mother said. 

“Nope! Just watching a youtube video,” you replied.

The parents nodded and left without another word. Perhaps their flaw was naivety? Regardless, it relieved you to see them leave and you closed the door and turned to look at Alva, who changed back into his default form. 

“That was close! We gotta be more careful. Hm...perhaps we can do this instead of having you hide every time: Let’s say that you’re a friend I met in the park. Your last name should be ‘Johnson’, they won’t question it. You’ll be the same age as me, born whenever you like, and all that good jazz. Just say that you were playing Frisbee or something and it landed near me, we started talking, etc. And we gotta set some boundaries, such as no transforming into real-life people. Fictional characters too, at least don’t do it in public. Ugh, I wish I thought this through...”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. You then heard the bed shuffle and Alva wrap you around in a hug. 

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll figure this out together! You’re smart enough to think of a way, I know it.”

“...Thanks.”

You hugged him back and smiled. Even though he was cold to the touch, at least his face was nice and warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is short. I'm just honestly making this up as I go along...


	3. A/N

I'm sorry, but until I think of more ideas, I cannot continue this fanfiction. There are also personal reasons as well that I don't wish to discuss. But unless I come up with more ideas, I'll be making other fanfics, better fanfics (hopefully). I hope you lot understand and thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So...I made this a thing...Yup *sweats profusely* I'm so sorry, Mark...


End file.
